


Of Falcons and Winter Soldiers

by celtic7irish



Series: An Assembly of Avengers [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Bucky and Steve friendship, Established Relationship, Eventual Clint/Phil, Eventual Tony/Bruce, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-20 23:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1530092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celtic7irish/pseuds/celtic7irish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's completely clueless.  Tony's not good at explaining.  Sam and Natasha are not helpful. And the Winter Soldier has his own agenda.</p><p>This is unbeta'd, so I apologize for any glaringly obvious errors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Falcons and Winter Soldiers

“What the hell, Steve?”  Those were the first words out of Tony’s mouth as he strode into the man’s Brooklyn apartment without so much as a by-your-leave.  Steve just sighed, refraining from rolling his eyes, and closed the door behind the other man.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Stark,” he said truthfully, though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have his suspicions.  After all, there were only so many near-catastrophes that had happened recently, so it was highly probably that the billionaire was talking about at least one of them.

 

Tony stopped his critical observation of Steve’s apartment and spun around to face the other man, his hands on his hips.  Steve noted vaguely that he was dressed smartly, in a pale grey pinstripe suit with a light blue shirt underneath.  His only concession to the fact that it was a Sunday was that he had forgone the tie that he usually wore.  Even his shoes had been polished to a shine.  Tony’s sunglasses were sitting atop his head as he glared at Steve.

 

“You just dumped all of SHIELD’s files onto the internet, including the secrets of some of our teammates, destroyed the Triskelion, revealed Hydra’s continued existence, and took out three helicarriers,” he alleged, one hand lifting to point accusingly at Steve, who just frowned at him.

 

“It wasn’t like I had a choice,” he argued.  “Hydra needed to be taken down, and they had infiltrated so far into SHIELD that SHIELD might as well have not existed at all!  Besides,” he scowled, “they attacked Director Fury.”

 

Tony’s eyes narrowed at that, and Steve could practically _see_ him analyzing that, picking his words apart to find the truth.  He wished briefly that he had Natasha here to distract Tony from discovering secrets that should really be left alone, but she was still busy dealing with the morons on Capitol Hill, and tracking down leads.

 

“They were aiming for you, you know,” he tossed out as bait, hoping it would distract Tony from his current line of thought.  The last thing he wanted to do was to try and hide the fact that Fury was indeed still alive and off doing whatever it was that ghosts did when they found themselves suddenly with an abundance of free time and nobody gunning for them.

 

It worked well enough, and Steve could see Tony’s mind derail and jump the track.  “Who else?” he demanded, and Steve found that he wasn’t really surprised that Tony had taken that news in stride, as if it was completely obvious to him that Hydra would try to take out Iron Man.  Then again, it really was pretty apparent, Steve admitted silently.  You didn’t just let a genius with the kind of resources that Tony Stark had at his disposal wander around freely.  He’d never conform to Hydra’s new order, and would bring them nothing but trouble as long as he breathed.

 

Steve remembered that he’d been asked a question, one that he could answer truthfully.  “Um, Doctor Banner,” he said, watching as Tony’s expression grew thunderous.  He was fiercely protective of the other man, and didn’t tolerate threats towards him.  “Doctor Strange.”  This time, Tony rolled his eyes, and Steve grinned; Tony hated magic, which meant that Doctor Strange was automatically on his shit-list.  “Myself, Assistant Director Hill, President Ellis.  Somewhere around two million people in the first wave,” he admitted, his voice tightening with residual anger.

 

“I see,” Tony said shortly.  “Since we’re being all honest and open right now, how about you tell me what you were thinking when you dumped all of SHIELD’s secrets onto the internet?”  Steve just huffed in exasperation; the irritating son of Howard only ever had a one-track mind when it was most inconvenient.

 

Steve shrugged.  “That wasn’t me,” he said.  “Natasha did that.”

 

Tony just rolled his eyes.  “Of course she did.  But I’ll bet anything it was your idea.  Of course, I’m surprised that she followed you like that.  Fury’s death must’ve really hit her hard.”  Steve kept his face carefully blank, knowing that Tony was watching his reactions.

 

“Look, what do you want me to say?” Steve asked finally, exasperated.  “A lot of things happened. I didn’t exactly have time to call for help, and going to anybody who was already on the list would have made my movements too obvious.  I was pressed for time.”

 

Tony just scowled.  “But you had time to bring someone else on board?” he asked next.  “And what about this Winter Soldier guy?  It seemed like you knew him.”  Steve didn’t even bother to wonder how Tony knew about Bucky.  If there was a record of it anywhere, Tony probably had access to it. Hell, maybe it had been in Hydra’s files – or SHIELD’s.

 

“That’s what this is about?” Steve asked, finally catching on.  “You’re jealous of Sam?  Really?”  He was fighting an incredulous grin, but the snarl that Tony gave him told him he was doing a poor job of masking his amusement.

 

Tony crossed his arms over his chest.  “Sam? Is that his name?” he asked, then flapped one hand in the air.  “No, no, I’m not jealous of Sam.  But seriously, Cap, where do you come up with these guys? I mean, it was bad enough with just the five of us. Now there’s a new guy?  Next thing I know, he’ll be coming out on missions with the rest of us the next time we’re called to assemble.”

 

He paused for a moment, his brow furrowing.  “Then again, will the rest of us assemble? I mean, is the Avengers Initiative even still a thing?  With Fury gone, and Hill working for me,” he grinned at that, “and SHIELD driven to ground, who’s gonna give us missions and be a pain in our collective asses?” he mused.  “Because seriously, I suppose I could have JARVIS monitor the situation, but what’s the point in having a shady, super-secret, semi-government-approved spy organization that can’t do its damn job?”

 

Steve finally gave up on holding it in, laughing outright.  When he was working on the Iron Man suit, AC/DC blaring at full volume, his attention was absolute.  Not even food would distract him, and only Pepper could drag him out of the shop, and even then, only if it was an absolute emergency.  The man didn’t even emerge from the lab for food or sleep most of the time.  But pull him away from all that, and he couldn’t concentrate on a single thing for more than a few minutes at a time.  Which often led to some very interesting conversations.

 

“Anyhow,” Tony said, apparently remembering that he had actually been going somewhere before, “we’ve got a new kid on the team, no SHIELD, no Fury, and you’re running around following leads to who-knows-where to hunt down this Winter Soldier.  Are you going to bring him into the fold, too?” he demanded.

 

Steve felt the laughter fade from his face, a slow-burning anger growing in its place.  “And if I am?” he insisted.  “What’s it to you?  Like you said, there is no Avengers Initiative anymore. SHIELD is gone, our handlers are gone, half our team is missing and gone to ground.  There are no missions, so what I do in my spare time is my choice.  Besides, you can’t talk,” he pointed out.  “You still go on solo missions as Iron Man, without anybody from the team as backup.”

 

Tony froze for a moment, then stalked right up to Steve, jabbing a finger into his chest.  “I was Iron Man way before I was an Avenger,” he hissed.  “Stark Industries weapons – _my_ weapons – are still out there, still killing people.  They need to be destroyed.  Every last one of them.”

 

“It’s the same for me, you know,” Steve said quietly, staring down at the other man.  “I was Captain America before I was an Avenger, too.  And Hydra is my enemy.  They always have been.  That they still exist seventy years in the future doesn’t make any difference, because the fact is, they _do_ still exist, and they’re still the bad guys.  They’re my responsibility.”

 

Tony’s mouth opened, then shut again, and Steve knew he ought to be pleased that he had managed to silence the billionaire for once.  Instead, he was just tired.

 

Turning his back to Tony, Steve headed for the kitchen.  He really just wanted to get undressed and collapse into bed, but that would be rude.  Tony might have come here uninvited, but he was still a guest, and Steve was his host.  “Want something to drink?” he asked.  “I have beer, soda, juice, and water.”

 

Tony had followed him into the kitchen.  He raised an eyebrow, possibly in surprise that Steve Rogers would have alcohol in his apartment.  Steve didn’t care; he liked the taste, the fact that he couldn’t get drunk didn’t have anything to do with it.  “I’ll take a coke, if you’ve got one,” Tony mumbled at last.  This time, it was Steve who raised an eyebrow. Stark was turning down alcohol?  Of course, maybe he only drank the expensive stuff, rather than the cheap beer that Steve typically bought.  Or maybe he was just trying to be polite, too, in his own way.

 

Shrugging, Steve grabbed a can of cola out of the fridge and walked back over to Tony, handing it to him before walking past him and into the living room, a bottle of water in his hands.  If Tony wasn’t going to drink, then he wouldn’t, either.  It’s not like the beer was going anywhere.

 

Before he could settle on the couch, there was a knock on the door.  Steve just sighed and turned back around, opening the door to let Sam and Natasha in.  “Hey, I hope we’re not interrupting something,” Sam said when he caught sight of Tony, leaning casually against the door jam.  Tony just saluted him with his soda, and Sam blinked. “Ah, Mr. Stark?” he asked.  The look Tony shot Steve was rather accusatory, and Steve held his hands up.  He hadn’t told Sam about Tony.  Well, not anything more than his name in passing, at least.

 

Sam spoke again before Tony could open his mouth and annoy Steve.  “I saw your last press conference,” he admitted, moving forward and offering his hand.  Tony reached out and grasped his hand, giving it a firm shake, his million-watt public smile falling into place easily.  Steve frowned, trying to remember if he had heard about the press conference Sam had mentioned.  Sam caught his confusion and raised an eyebrow, grinning.  “He was, ah…explaining why his arc repulsor technology was being used by Hydra and SHIELD to power the Insight Project.”

 

Tony grimaced.  “Yeah, that was horrible, by the way.  Especially since I had absolutely no idea what was going on,” he added pointedly, glaring heatedly at Steve, who blushed.  Oh.  It hadn’t occurred to him that Tony would get into trouble for trying to do a good thing, though it had been in the interests of self-preservation at the time, if Fury’s words were to be believed.

 

Sam shrugged. “I was convinced,” he said honestly.

 

“So was I,” added Natasha, walking in from the kitchen, an opened bottle of water in her hands and a can of soda in the other.  To their credit, none of the men startled at her sudden appearance.  Sauntering over to the couch, Natasha handed the soda to Sam, who took it with a quiet thanks, and then settled herself on the floor, her back against the coffee table.

 

Steve, who had been leaning his hip against the side of the couch, looked at Sam expectantly.  The other man stared back at him, then glanced quickly at Tony, who blinked and then frowned, standing.  “I’ll just head home now,” he muttered, not meeting any of their eyes.  Steve wanted to call him back, to explain that it wasn’t anything personal, but he bit the words back, watching as Tony left, the door closing with a soft click behind him.  Steve let out a huff of breath.

 

“Is he always like that?” Sam asked, still staring in the direction Tony had gone.

 

Natasha shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much.”  Her words were dismissive, and Steve frowned at her; he knew that Nat and Tony didn’t get along terribly well, but he didn’t know why, and neither of his teammates had been very forthcoming about it, either.  Steve hadn’t pried, because it hadn’t seemed important at the time, but maybe he should have.

 

Still, there were more important things going on right now.  He couldn’t worry about Tony, too.  “Any news?” he asked, cutting straight to the main reason for their little get-together.

 

Sam grimaced.  “Yeah, about that…the last lead was a complete bust.  He was gone hours before we even got close, and didn’t exactly leave a trail behind him.  Your old pal is really good at hiding,” he grumbled, and Steve felt the flicker of a small smile tug at his lips.  Bucky always had been resourceful when necessary.

 

“We actually came back here because we heard he was back in town,” Natasha said, her tone as serious as her expression.  Steve froze. What? The Winter Soldier was here? In New York City?

 

“Why would he come here?” he breathed, trying to ignore the small flare of hope in his chest at the thought that maybe, just maybe, Bucky had remembered him – or remembered something, _anything_ – and had come here to find him.

 

Nat shook her head, shrugging.  “We don’t even know that he _is_ here,” she pointed out.  “After all, it’s not the first time that we’ve chased a rumor, only to discover that he’s halfway across the world instead.  I’ve told you before, when the Winter Soldier doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be.  I’ve tried.”  Steve tried not to let Natasha’s words affect him.  Of all of them, she was the most cynical.  Perhaps it was a byproduct of her childhood, or just of her time spent working for SHIELD – and unknowingly for Hydra.  She was floundering just as much as the rest of them were, in a world where nothing was certain anymore, not even her own sense of belonging.

 

Steve realized he was pacing, his hands clasped tightly together behind his back, and he forced himself to stop, to stand still, his mind racing.  “If he is here,” he said, “then he must be here for a reason.”  And that reason, whatever it was, probably didn’t involve him.  At least, not directly.  But what – or who – else could the Winter Soldier possibly be interested in, here in New York?

Sam and Natasha stayed for another half hour, hashing out various theories and plans, but in the end, nothing was resolved.  Natasha promised to keep looking, to see if she could come up with anything, somewhere they could do, something that Steve could work with.  He was tired of sitting on the sidelines while Sam and Natasha ran around the world in one of Stark’s private planes.  Tony didn’t know what Natasha used the plane for, but he hadn’t asked either, when she had asked him if she could use it.  In fact, even though he obviously didn’t trust her, Tony had just called Pepper and told her to assign one of his personal Quinjets to Natasha for her personal use.

 

Once they were gone, Steve slumped down in the worn armchair in the living room, exhausted.  It was only mid-evening, but he had been too tense for too long, running himself ragged between dealing with the fallout from the attack by Hydra, hunting for the Winter Soldier, and keeping Tony at bay.  The other man was bound to figure out what was going on soon, but Steve hoped to have a little more time before then.

 

Steve’s eyes flew open suddenly, and he sat bolt upright in his chair.  Tony!  His hand fumbled for his phone – Stark Tech, of course – and he hurriedly dialed Tony’s number, putting the phone to his ear and hoping he wasn’t too late.

 

He hadn’t thought about what he’d say when Tony picked up, and found himself stammering when Tony’s carefree voice drifted through the speakers.  “Yeah, Cap? What’s up? Done with your little pow-wow?” he asked.

 

Steve swallowed, keeping his voice even.  “Tony, where are you right now?” he asked.

 

“What?”  Steve could hear the confusion in that single word, underlined by irritation.  “Why? You coming to see me?” he asked next, and the words were flirtatious, even if the tone wasn’t.  Steve could hear traffic in the background, and his heart thudded heavily in his chest.

 

“Look, just get away from there, Stark.  Now!” he ordered.

 

He could practically see Tony’s eyes narrowing in anger, his jaw tightening in defiance. “Uh, nuh uh, Captain Tightpants,” he refused.  “You don’t get to tell me what to do.  I listen to you in battle, but outside of that, I don’t have to follow orders.”

 

Steve’s hand tightened dangerously on the phone.  “Tony,” he said, his voice dropping a register into what he knew Tony considered his ‘Captain America’ voice.  “I can’t explain right now, but you’re in danger.  I need you to get out of there, and get somewhere safe.  To the Tower, perhaps.  Just somewhere that’s not out in the open.  Please,” he added.

 

There was silence for a moment, then Tony sighed.  “All right, Cap.  I’ll go, because this seems important.  But you’ve got some serious explaining to do. Understood?”

 

Steve breathed a sigh of relief.  “Yeah, anything you want,” he agreed unthinkingly.  “Just…be safe, okay?”

 

“Sure thing, Cap!” Tony replied, his tone cheerful again.  “Later!”  And with that he disconnected the call.  Steve pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it for a long moment.  Tony had programmed the wallpaper to change every time he made a call.  Right now, it was showing Iron Man, striking his usual hero pose.  Steve sighed again, hoping that Tony had actually listened for once.  A part of him wished that the other man hadn’t disconnected the call, so that he could make sure he arrived safely.  Still, there was more than one option.

 

Steve dialed a second number, one that he had memorized.  A moment later, the call was picked up.  _“Captain Rogers,”_ JARVIS greeted.  _“I’m afraid that Mr. Stark is not available right now.  Is there something I can help you with?”_

Steve shook his head, then realized that JARVIS couldn’t actually see him through the phone.  “Ah, no, JARVIS.  I think somebody might be after Tony.  I told him to go to the Tower, and he said he would.  Could you just let me know when he arrives?” he asked.

 

There was a moment of silence as JARVIS processed his words, analyzing both the threat and the request.  _“Certainly, Captain,”_ he replied a second later, and Steve relaxed just a bit.  He had wondered, briefly, if Tony had forbidden JARVIS from informing the others of his whereabouts, should they ask, but apparently he hadn’t felt the need to do so.  _“Is that everything, sir?”_ JARVIS asked politely.

 

“Uh, yeah,” Steve blushed.  “Thanks, JARVIS,” he mumbled.

 

 _“You’re quite welcome, Captain. And might I add that, should you wish to come for a visit, Mr. Stark has prepared a floor for you as well.”_ The call was disconnected while Steve sat there in shock.  A floor?  At Stark Tower?  Had he heard that right?

 

Part of him was tempted to call JARVIS back and demand an explanation, but instead, he just tucked his phone into his back pocket as he stood up, grabbing his jacket off its hook and snagging his keys as he left.  He had promised Tony an explanation anyhow, and this way, he could check for signs of the Winter Soldier, too.

 

He toyed with the idea of calling Sam and Natasha, but he knew that they’d want to help, and they were exhausted.  They needed a break.  Steve could take care of this himself.  If it really was Bucky out there, perhaps Steve would actually manage to find him this time, without announcing his arrival in a Quinjet that belonged to billionaire Tony Stark.  How could he have been so stupid? And because they hadn’t told Tony what they were using the jet for, the other man had no idea of the sort of danger that could be stalking him right now.  They had seriously messed up this time.

 

Three minutes later, Steve was pulling out of the apartment complex’s garage, his motorcycle rumbling between his legs as he maneuvered into the busy New York traffic.  The streets were clogged with vehicles, and Steve quickly grew impatient.  The first chance he got to take a side street, he was gone, keeping to back roads and only hitting the main streets when he had no other choice.  His progress was too slow, and he kept waiting to hear his phone ring, for JARVIS to inform him that Tony had made it safely to the Tower.  But no call came, and Steve found himself worrying more and more with each passing minute, even as he told himself that even if Tony had left for the Tower as soon as their call had ended, he wouldn’t be there yet, caught in the same traffic as Steve himself was.

 

He heard the explosion right before the screaming started, and Steve took a sharp right, tearing down an alleyway, wincing as his left leg nicked a dumpster as he sped through the narrow space.  It took him nearly five minutes to drive the three blocks to where the explosion had happened, and Steve skidded to a stop, his eyes wide as he took in the destruction.  A single car lay in the middle of the street, burning as civilians stood and gaped.  Even if it hadn’t been for the license plate clearly labeled Stark33, Steve would know that car anywhere.  Tony was rather proud of it, and made it clear that only his absolutely favorite people – Pepper and Bruce – were allowed to so much as touch it.  And now it lay on its roof, flames licking around it, metal and glass everywhere.

 

Steve swallowed, the wreckage looking terrifyingly familiar.  He had seen the news clippings from the attack on Nick Fury.  There was nobody else who could have done this. The Winter Soldier had struck again.  The question now was…where was the driver? 

 

Looking around, Steve found the cops, holding back the crowd while they waited for the firemen to put out the flames.  Their response time had been impressive, and Steve moved towards them quickly.  “Umm…excuse me,” he said politely to one of the policemen as they spoke in low murmurs.

 

The officer he’d been speaking to looked up.  “Sir, please step back.  It’s not safe here,” he suggested kindly, but firmly.

 

Steve frowned at him.  “I understand,” he said, “but the driver of that car is a friend of mine, and a teammate.  I’d just like to know if he was,” he paused, swallowed, “hurt in the attack.”

 

The cop frowned, undoubtedly preparing to accuse him of lying, but his partner stopped him, gripping his shoulder.  “Dude, that’s Captain America,” he said, and he sounded so _young_.  The first officer started, then looked a little more intently at Steve, who just stood there, waiting, even as he resisted the urge to just grab the man and shake him until he got his answers.  Pissing off the cops that you wanted information from wasn’t generally a good idea.

 

Steve dipped his head in acknowledgment, then prompted gently.  “My friend?” he prodded.

 

“Oh! Ah,” the older cop stammered, “Mr. Stark wasn’t here when he arrived.  If he walked away under his own power, he should be fine.”  He didn’t mention the other possibility, which was that Tony might not have left the scene of his own volition.

 

Steve nodded.  “Thank you, Officers,” he murmured.  “When I find him, I’ll make sure he comes into the precinct to give a statement.”  Without waiting for their reply, he strode away, determined.  If Tony _had_ been taken by the Winter Soldier, then he had no time to waste.  If he hadn’t, and had simply hoofed it out of there, finally realizing the danger he was in, JARVIS would be calling him at some point, and then he could go and yell at the billionaire for scaring him.

 

Expecting the Winter Soldier to have covered his tracks while escaping from the scene of the attack, Steve was completely surprised when he stumbled upon the other man not ten minutes later, hovering over an unconscious Tony, who had blood dripping from a head wound, his mouth pressed tightly shut in a grimace of pain.

 

Steve didn’t stop, didn’t think, just threw himself at the two men.  “Bucky, don’t!” he yelled, tackling the other man and driving them both to the ground.

 

The fist flying at his face really shouldn’t have surprised him, but Steve took the brunt of the attack anyhow, his head snapping to the side as the man beneath him lashed out.  He supposed he should just be glad that Bucky hadn’t hit him with his metal fist, which was held tightly to the ground in Steve’s right hand, because that might have actually broken something.

 

“What are you doing, Buck?” he asked, ignoring the throbbing in his jaw and chin, staring down into dark, confused blue eyes.  “Why are you going after Stark?”

 

A frown then.  “Stark?” Bucky mumbled.  “I…know that name.  Why do I know that name?”  Steve felt his breath freeze in his lungs.  Of course!  The Winter Soldier had been responsible for staging the death of several key figures over the course of history in the past fifty years.  Two of the deaths attributed to him were those of Howard and Maria Stark, Tony’s parents.  But it was obvious that Bucky didn’t remember that, didn’t remember who he’d been sent to kill after being unfrozen and having his mind wiped repeatedly.

 

Steve swallowed.  “He’s all over the news,” he said weakly.  “I’m sure you must’ve heard his name somewhere.”  Bucky didn’t answer, twisting his head away from Steve, his gaze falling on the prone man across the alley.  Steve tightened his grip, settling himself more firmly atop his old friend.  “Bucky,” he growled.  “Leave Tony out of this.”

 

Blue eyes peered up at him through long strands of hair.  Steve resisted the urge to brush them out of the way, well aware that the moment he gave the slightest opening, the Winter Soldier would throw him off and they’d be back to fighting.  He had gotten lucky with his first attempt, with Bucky distracted by the billionaire.  He doubted the other man would let his guard down a second time.

 

There was a low, pained moan, and both men froze.  “Wha’ t’hell?” Tony slurred, dark eyes opening and staring around dazedly, coming to land on the two men nearby.  “Cap?” he grumbled.  Then his eyes narrowed, focusing almost instantaneously.  “Is that the Winter Soldier?” he demanded.

 

Steve grimaced; it had been too much to hope that Tony didn’t know the identity of his attacker.  “Ah, well, yes. Sort of. He’s not a bad guy,” he implored Tony.  “Well, not usually.  He’s Bucky.”  His words were failing him again, and he remembered just how awkward he got whenever he was trying to explain something really important, something that words just couldn’t express properly.

 

Tony forced himself into a sitting position, then moaned, clutching his head as he drew his knees up.  “Agh,” he mumbled vaguely, “hurts.  My head.”  His fingers twisted in his hair as he stilled, and the alley fell silent for a moment.

 

Suddenly, Bucky twisted, thrashing, and Steve’s eyes widened as he slid off the other man.  “No! Bucky!” he cried out, watching as his friend launched himself towards his teammate.  He watched, his heart in his throat, as Bucky crouched down in front of the billionaire, who peered up at him muzzily. 

 

“Oh, hey.  You’re the guy that saved me, right?” he asked, giving a small, pained smile.  Steve froze. Wait, what?  “Thanks for that.”

 

Bucky didn’t answer him, just thrust out his metal arm.  “Can you fix it?” he demanded, his voice low.

 

Tony blinked at him for a moment, then turned to look at the metal arm, one hand dropping from his hair so he could poke gently at the arm. “Ah, I’d have to see how it’s connected, and where the problem is, but if it’s just a machine, then yeah, I can probably fix it,” he said after a moment.  “If you want me to.  I won’t even charge you, since you sort of saved my life back there.  Consider it my thanks.”  Bucky nodded, and Tony grinned at him.  Steve had the feeling that he had missed something important.

 

“Hey, Rogers!” Sam called, jogging around the corner.  Steve didn’t bother to wonder how he’d found him in the first place.  He was partnering with Natasha.  “We figured out what the Winter Soldier is after! He’s…oh.  He’s here,” he said needlessly, staring wide-eyed at the man who was still kneeling in front of a pale-looking Tony.  “And so is Stark.  Well, damn, guess he found who he was looking for, then,” he grimaced sheepishly.  “So…is this a really bad time or something?” he asked.

 

Bucky was staring at the newcomer through narrowed eyes.  “You had wings,” he said slowly.  “I tore them off.”

 

Sam scowled at him.  “Yeah, thanks for that, by the way.  I just love getting thrown from moving aircraft and plummeting towards my doom.”

 

“You’re not dead,” Bucky observed needlessly.  Steve hid his smile behind his hand.  Tony didn’t even bother to muffle his snicker.  Sam just glared at all three of them.

 

“Fine, see if I help you track down his lame ass down anymore,” he told Steve with an exaggerated sniff.  His eyes were sparkling, though, and Steve knew he wasn’t really angry with him.  He smiled gratefully up at the other soldier.  Sam just tossed him a wink.  “So, what now?  You taking him back to Brooklyn with you?” Sam asked, jabbing his thumb towards the Winter Soldier.

 

Steve shook his head.  “Nah, not yet.  I hear Tony’s renovated his Tower, and he promised Bucky that he’d fix his arm.”  Tony opened his mouth to object, but Steve overrode him.  “And I sort of have some explaining to do.”  Tony’s mouth shut with a snap.

 

Sam nodded.  “Yeah, all right,” he agreed easily enough, and Steve found that he appreciated that about the other man.  Sam took things in stride. He was loyal, open-minded, and honest.  Not something that could be said about most of Steve’s other friends these days.

 

“Hey, Wilson,” Tony said, pushing himself to his feet.  He listed to the side, and Steve moved forward to grab him, Sam bracketing his other side.  “Thanks,” Tony mumbled.  “How ‘bout you come to the Tower, too?  I mean, Nat’s already there, and Bruce.  Steve’s coming, Thor might or might not be there.  That just leaves Legolas, and I’m sure he’ll be there shortly.  You might as well meet the rest of the team,” he smiled.

 

Sam looked at Steve, confused.  ‘Legolas?’ he mouthed.  Steve shrugged.  “He’s talking about Clint.  Barton,” he clarified.  Sam raised his eyebrows, but nodded, accepting it.

 

Tony laughed, and it was obvious that he and Sam were going to get along together fabulously.  He grimaced as his face paled, his eyes darkening with pain.  “Owwww…..” he whined, dropping his head onto Sam’s shoulder.  “Stupid fucking Hydra, attacking my goddamn car in the middle of the street, in broad daylight.  I liked that car, too.”

 

Bucky just watched the interaction between the three men, not moving from where he stood sentry near the mouth of the alley.  Tony lifted his head enough to give the other man a weak smile.  “Hey, c’mon,” he mumbled.  “Let’s get you fixed up. Then…we’ll see, okay?”

 

Steve understood that Tony didn’t want to make any promises.  The Winter Soldier was still an assassin, and if he freaked out again, blood would probably be spilled.  But for now, he was just Bucky, Steve’s old friend, hurt and confused and trying to find his way in this new world he suddenly found himself in.  Steve knew the feeling.

 

As they moved forward, Tony staggering between them as Bucky brought up the rear, Steve decided that once they got to the Tower, he’d make sure they cleared up any misunderstandings once and for all.  After all, they may have been brought together by SHIELD, but they stayed together now by their own choice.

 

There was a sudden push from behind, and suddenly Tony was torn out of Steve’s grip with a yelp. “What?” he asked, blinking, taking a moment before he understood what he was seeing.  Bucky was holding Tony in the classic princess style, his metal hand curved around the smaller man’s back.  Tony was flushing, completely embarrassed, but obviously still feeling too sick to put up much of a fight. He probably had a concussion, Steve mused.

 

Steve smiled.  “Let’s go home,” he suggested.

 

Bucky was ignoring him, but Tony and Sam shared a look with each other, and Steve smiled, once again leading the way. 

 

This time, nobody argued.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the first part of what I hope to be a series of random works, based around misunderstandings among the Avengers and various other side-characters from MCU. There won't really be a set timeline, as I'll be jumping all over the place.


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